


My two dearest boys

by charlottefrey



Series: cf's Advent Calendar 2015 [23]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: Gaby's drunk, I love her, M/M, she's great, spitting in kitchen sinks is great
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-05-08 17:58:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5507363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charlottefrey/pseuds/charlottefrey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Napoleon and Illya have a mutual friend who likes to get drunk. Napoleon is her old Uni roommate, Illya her once-up-a-time boyfriend who became her best Russian Mate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My two dearest boys

**Author's Note:**

> I hate my writer's block. My minds spins weird apocalyptic scenarios (I may post some original stuff soon), but nothing for the Advent Calendar. I am (sadly) glad it's over tomorrow.

23\. “mutual drunk friend called BOTH of us to pick them up from a party well this is awkward” AU ([XX](http://bilboo.tumblr.com/post/103038298263/consider-the-following))

 

__________________________

 

Illya stared at the man across from him. They stood in front of a bench in the middle of the city part, where Gaby was singing ‘Uptown Funk’ off-key and loudly, while waving her half-empty beer bottle over her stretched out body. Illya was internally asking himself why she hadn’t accidently emptied it’s content on her face.

   “This is awkward.” Napoleon finally said into the not-so-silence.

   “Indeed it is.” Illya said with a sigh. “Who’s gonna take her home now?”

   “I am here by foot.” Napoleon said slowly and looked at Gaby in her state (now she sang ‘One Woman Army’) and swallowed. “But it think it wouldn’t be the best idea to inflict her in this state on the London Underground.”

   “I agree. Can you help me get her into the car. You can sit in the back as long as you assure that she doesn’t vomit in my car.”

 

-|-|-|-|-|-|-

 

   “Why doesn’t she stop singing?” Napoleon groaned after Gaby started off with ‘Immortals’, weirdly hitting only the high notes.

   “She has never been this drunk. But the last time I tried to stop her from singing she nearly bit off my fingers. So I wouldn’t try that.” Slightly alarmed, Napoleon looked to the front and Illya just shot him a short look through the back mirror and shrugged.

   “Why did she call us both anyways?” Napoleon said and pulled Gaby back to his side. She was like a rag doll, a very heavy rag doll which protested loudly whenever there was something displeasing her.

   “I don’t know, she was maybe too drunk.” Illya finally pulled up at Gaby’s flat. “Now we have to get her inside.” Napoleon sighed. Together they pulled Gaby out of the car and Illya lifted her up while Napoleon dug for her keys. As they climbed the narrow stairs, Gaby began to babble something incoherently and Illya simply nodded along. Napoleon found it endearing.

   “Home sweet home.” Napoleon said as he kicked Gaby’s flat door open. Illya and Gaby were still deep in conversation and Gaby had started to hit Illya whenever he apparently disagreed with her. The Russian looked pissed, but not too pissed to just drop her there in the corridor. Instead he dumped her unceremoniously on the bed.

   “You stay.” He told her. “Napoleon I will look for painkillers, stay with her.” The American was left along with a half-asleep Gaby Teller.

   “Hey Gaby.” He leaned over her, smelling cigarette smoke and alcohol. Sadly he forgot that Gaby was a fucking craken when it came to falling asleep. She had once, when the two of them still went to Uni, ended up hugging her goldfish glass when she fell asleep in their small flat after a party. Napoleon had found her the next morning, cheek pressed against the glass. Now he was in her embrace and damn was that woman strong.

   “What…”

   “Don’t ask, it’s her thing.” Napoleon said and moved his body over to the other side, so he wouldn’t crush her. “She does that often.”

   “Don’t you mind?” Illya asked.

“Nah. At least she doesn’t smell of vomit.” The Russian frowned.

   “I have not found painkillers. I will go to my flat and get them, I will be back in twenty minutes.” Then he left.

 

-|-|-|-|-|-|-

 

When Illya returned by the promised timed, both Napoleon and Gaby were fast asleep in Gaby’s large bed. He sighed and placed a glass of water and three painkiller by Gaby’s bedside table. Then he went to sleep on the sofa.

 

-|-|-|-|-|-|-

 

After waking up with a crick in the neck, Napoleon climbed out of bed, his clothes crinkled. With a sigh he went to Gaby’s closet, hoping she still had clothes from him. She loved to steal his clothes. He found a T-Shirt that must be his and a pair of levis. As he went to shower, he heard Illya rummage in the kitchen. When he left the bathroom twenty minutes later, showered and shaved (Gaby always had male shaving stuff over for some reason of other, maybe because of her boyfriend.) it was smelling of scrambled eggs.

   “Morning Illya.” Napoleon said and walked bare footedly into the kitchen. The jeans were way to tight he noticed when he threw away the cotton balls h had used to remove his shaving cream. Illya turned just in time to see a glorious ass up in the air.

   “Good morning cowboy.” He said and Napoleon rose to his full height again, sadly he was still smaller than Illya. Suddenly, Gaby waddled in. She spotted Napoleon and despite her ruffled appearance (one of her earrings still in, the other in her hair) she laughed.

   “James Dean for sure.” She sang. “I forgot I had your favourite Levis here.”

   “Ah, I was already wondering.” Napoleon said, certainly lacking her gleeful tone. “I hope you slept good.”

   “Nothing is better than a hangover to wake up to.” Gaby said and rolled her eyes. To emphasise her state she spit into the sink and sat down to breakfast.

   “Gaby, this is a kitchen.” Napoleon sad, truly scandalised.

   “Do that in the street!” Illya barked in the same moment. Both shared a look.

   “Jeeze.” Gaby simply replied. “You two are like an old married couple.” Both men exchanged a look. “See.” Gaby giggled.

   “Shut up.” Napoleon and Illya said simultaneously. But the woman only laughed louder

 

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For more stuff [visit my blog](http://charlotte-frey.tumblr.com/tagged/Advent%20Calendar%202015)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, giving kudos and commeting!  
> Have a nice Christmas Eve Eve!


End file.
